Broken Smiles
by yamaguchi-tadashi
Summary: Nobody knows Italy's past, or the things that still haunt him. Nobody can see underneath the broad smile. That is, except for one, the one Italy tries the hardest to keep out. GerIta. Rated T for self-harm and censored language.
1. Chapter 1

He was hidden. He was broken. He was dead.

He could not cry, having used up all his tears long ago.

His happiness had long since fallen away, and he no longer knew how to laugh.

Pain was only a word to him.

His name was Feliciano.

Otherwise known as Italy, the brunette was called 'bouncy', 'loud', and, despite everything inside of him, 'happy'. The other countries didn't have the slightest clue as to what he went through, or what he thought about when he was alone. None of them knew a thing, and that's the way he liked it best. The seldom times he saw them at world meetings, he pasted on an oblivious smile and fluffed up his obnoxious curl, pretending as if everything in his world was absolutely perfect and that he was content with the little that he knew.

Oh, how the others envied him.

Oh, how he envied the others.

This particular meeting was extremely boring, in Italy's opinion. His brother Romano was cursing at his crush Spain, and in the background England and France were beating eachother up again. America and Prussia were looking for Canada, and Greece was asleep on Japan's stiff shoulder. Switzerland was yelling something about warfare, while Russia smiled and rested his broad hands on Latvia's shaking shoulders behind him. Italy sighed and rested his chin in his cupped hand, looking down his long blue sleeve to the fading scars decorating his wrist. Pulling at the rim so nobody could see, he heard someone clearing his throat behind him. Readying his signature smile, he turned around and closed his honey-brown eyes in what so many mistook as a sign of pleasure.

"Ve~?"

"Hullo, Italy. Is somezing wrong?" The tall blonde asked, his back straight and his blue eyes curious. Italy knew that Germany saw him as a friend, and didn't want to disappoint the all-muscle-and-no-brains axis, so he tilted his head to the side and beamed even wider.

"No, of course not, Doitsu~" he answered, his curl bobbing. Germany nodded quickly and returned to the front of the room, once again trying to calm the rowdy countries down. Italy frowned, after checking to see if anyone was looking, and exhaled in annoyance.

Why couldn't this torture just end already?

/+/

Italy lay, face down, on his bed, his eyes shut tightly as memories that refused to leave clamored in his heavy head. Memories of his first love, of the hallucinations that had haunted him ever since the death of said love, of everything that had happened ever since then. Basically, his mind was filled with hated images better left alone.

Before, when he was still living at Austria's house, his smiles had been real. His laughs had meant something, and his heart knew how to beat. But after that…

No. He didn't want to think about it. But soon afterwards, his brother had started to grow more and more distant, spending more time with that Spaniard of his, and it destroyed the last bit of hope that had ever resided in young Feli.

He heard a knock at the front door, shattering his lonely thoughts. Who would be knocking at his door? Grumbling under his breath, he rolled off his bed and stretched, then slipped his uniform top back on, buttoning it as he treaded down the stairs. Pulling the door open, he was met by two pairs of prying eyes, which chose only to see the wide, fake smile pasted on Italy's face. He flung himself first at the almost black pair, catching Japan by surprise, then hugged the bright blue pair belonging to Germany himself, causing him to grunt slightly and a hint of pink to grace his cheeks. Italy didn't notice this reaction, however, as he was too busy screaming internally about how seriously aggravating these two were.

"Ve~ Germany! Japan! Ciao~!" Italy said as energetically as he could muster. Germany grinned and Japan bowed in greeting, then gestured toward the doorway.

"Can we come in prease?" he asked, his accent slurring his English speech.

"Of course!" he replied, stepping aside for his uninvited guests and running into the kitchen, calling out behind him, "I'll make pasta, sí?"

Japan smiled softly. "Hai, that would be nice. Thank you, Itaria-kun"

Germany just nodded curtly, looking around the Italian's living room. Something seemed a little off about it, it seemed dimmer than usual. Lingering in the air was a feeling of darkness and depression, and the bewildered German couldn't shake off the gloom. How could a house holding such a cheerful resident be so… sad?

Italy entered the room, holding three plates of fresh pasta in his arms, setting them down on the coffee table in front of the sofa. "Here you go~!"

As his two companions ate, politely accepting any embellishments or spices the Italian offered, Feliciano sighed inwardly. Although he supposed it was nice for someone to take the time to come and see him, he had to admit to himself that it was probably just because they were all allies, members of the Axis Powers. Otherwise, why would they want to even look at someone like him?

They sat in silence for a while, eating the heaping plates of food Italy had supplied, before Japan's phone rang in his pocket. He jumped in surprise, then fumbled to take the device out. Flipping it open, his dark eyes scanned a text, and a pink complexion spread across his cheeks.

"Um, prease excuse me… Greece just carred… Um, I'rr see you rater!" he said, hurriedly standing up and bowing himself out of the room. Italy smirked at the man's obvious infatuation with the younger country. After a few seconds, he realized it was just him and Germany, and he beamed.

"Hey, Doitsu~ Wassup?" he asked, after clearing the blonde's plate and stashing it away back in the kitchen.

"Oh, um, not much. Training, zhe usual. How have you been, Italy? Zhe house seems depressing."

With his back turned, Italy frowned, annoyed at the perceptive senses of the German. "It's-a nothing!" he said, turning around with another hoax grin on his pale face. It seemed to fool Germany, at least for the time being, so he let it stand there. He wouldn't be going into any detail unless someone asked.

"Oh, and vhat exactly is 'nozing'?"

This startled Italy, although he wouldn't let it show. People didn't usually ask him to elaborate. They just let him be, naturally assuming that all was well in his life.

"Well, um, I went-a to see fratello Romano yesterday. He was-a with Spain…" He couldn't come up with anything. What was wrong with him? Usually he could just spout off whatever nonsense that was on the top of his head, and they would be perfectly fine with it, but in front of this German's scrutinizing stare, he couldn't think of anything that could pass as okay.

"Italy… Vhat is wrong?"

**A/N: Hey guys~! A Hetalia fanfic this time, haha! Yes, completely OOC Italy, I know... But it makes for a good twist, right? Anyway, if you want me to stop writing with the accents, I can, I just thought that it would give it a more Hetalia-esque feel. And I haven't finished watching up to Beautiful World yet, so don't get mad at me if I get something wrong... Anyway, review, favorite, whatever...****Ciao~!**


	2. Chapter 2

+Germany POV+

I watched as Italy stared at me, his mouth slightly open in some kind of shock. Why wouldn't he answer my question? I waited for a while, and was about to repeat myself, when the Italian suddenly smiled.

"Ve, Germany, why would anything be wrong? You're-a here! We're friends, right?"

I frowned. He seemed to be back to normal… but then, what was that pause? I still thought something was seriously bad here, but decided to drop it. Italy obviously didn't want to talk about it. I smiled uncertainly, a rare occurrence, and leaned back on the couch.

"Ja, I suppose." I replied to his earlier statement. He smiled even wider and jumped up, almost knocking the coffee table over. I quickly bent forward to set it straight again, while he giggled.

"Sorry, Doitsu~" he apologized, his honey-colored eyes closed once more, like they usually were when he wasn't in shock. I nodded and stood up, matching Italy's pose.

"So, you want to do something?" I asked, trying to break the ice. "Um, the park?" He hesitated a bit, not enough for anyone to notice, but I did. I saw the way his eyes widened a bit before going back to normal, and he nodded excitedly.

"Sí~!"

+Italy POV+

I followed the annoying German out the door, closing it quietly behind me and then running a little to catch up with his quick strides. The park? I sighed inwardly. Why was he even trying? I could tell he was just trying to be friendly. He didn't mean anything. Of course he didn't, nobody ever did after… him.

To my surprise, we walked right past the small children's park near my house and continued going until we reached Italia in Miniatura. I narrowed my eyes. How did he even know about this? Most people from outside didn't know much about this place. It was one of the smaller amusement parks, literally. We stood at the gate, Germany readying to pay. I placed an unsteady hand on his shoulder.

"Ve, Doitsu, you don't have to pay…" I said, trying my best to smile. He shook my hand off and looked at me, blue eyes piercing.

"But I want to." he answered, catching me by some surprise. I stepped back and obediently let him pay the fee, then walked after him as he swept through the gate in his overly-stiff manner. My face was beginning to hurt from smiling so much, but I couldn't let my guard down. This had to keep up until I could escape from this prison known as Germany. What did he have to gain from this? We had formed an alliance ages ago, and I wasn't exactly the best-looking country out there… He was far too suspicious. As we walked through the theme park, I almost grinned. A real, sincere grin, albeit it would've been dry and barely humourus. Here, spread out for everyone to see, was my country, with all its landmarks and tourist attractions and flaws advertised to all the world, including my companion Germany. How ironic.

I stretched my arms out in front of me, skipping up to Germany's side and beaming widely. I adopted my childish voice, the annoying one that led everyone to believe that I was happy.

"Doitsu, Doitsu, why are we here? I already know my country, silly~!" I said playfully, my hands clasped behind my back in an innocent gesture. He just frowned, like usual.

"I vas zhinking zhat maybe it vould cheer you up." he said gruffly. I could only see the back of his head, but I knew that his face would be feigning impassiveness and trying to cover a blush.

I was a little stunned. Why would he try to cheer me up? How had he known that I was feeling down again? Did he know about anything else? As if reacting to my own thoughts, I tugged at the bottom of my sleeve nervously, attempting to hide the scars even more.

Germany turned around, and I covered up my mystified expression with a clueless smile just in time. He stared at me for a while, then turned back and began walking again.

We walked in silence until I tapped his shoulder. "Thank you, Doitsu!" I said, expressing my fake self's gratefulness at the thoughtful gesture. Inside I just wanted it to end, just wanted to go home and climb into bad and just lay there, with no purpose in life and no love to anchor me down.

The taller country looked down and forced a smile. "No problem, Italy."

How sickening.

As we neared the end of the park, I began talking excitedly about random nonsense to fill the awkwardness surrounding us. We reached the exit, and Germany held up a gloved hand. "I don't really care about vhat jou did wizh a cat and Romano's curl, okay?" he said, his face slightly green. I laughed carelessly, my mask convincing, complete, and Russia-proof.

I skipped out of the mini theme park, glad to be out of there. Well, almost. I wasn't really able to be fully glad about anything anymore. Germany walked me home, and at the door, I waved him off, watching as he drove off. I frowned, opening my eyes, and sighed. Slamming the door, I ran up the stairs and flopped onto my bedroom floor, absolutely exhausted.

Germany looked so much like him. He brought back unwanted memories and tears that I couldn't shed. I felt… angry around him. I guess my heart had finally accepted the fact that I'd never be able to see my first love ever again, and wanted to blame someone for it. So it blamed Germany. Perfect. Just abso-frikking-lutely perfect in every way. One of my only allies in the world was too painful to even look at. I considered going into Romano mode and spouting off curse words like water for a minute, but released as a passing fancy.

I looked over at my top drawer from the floor and noticed that it was halfway open. I stood to close it, but noticed what was inside. I picked it up and examined the sheen of light on the blade, pondering its existence in my life.

I shrugged grimly and walked to the bathroom. What was the difference between thirty-nine and forty-nine, anyway?

+Germany POV+

I drove home, an unsettling thought still nesting in the front of my mind and not leaving.

'Ve, Germany, why would anything be wrong? You're-a here! We're friends, right?'

The sound of Italy's voice resonated through my brain and echoed in my ears, making me question my answer.

Were we friends? I thought we were, but Italy might have different ideas. He had been acting strangely for a while now, and I had no idea why or how to fix the problem. My 'cheering up' had done nothing, it seemed, for the Italian. I could feel my face getting warmer from just the mention of the small boy, and that startled me. Why did I feel like this? I had a strong urge to protect him, to never give him reason to frown again…

What was this?

**A/N: Hey, guys! Thanks for 11 Favorites on just the first chapter! You make me blush... Anyway, This chapter is a little shorter, but please enjoy it nonetheless! I'm speeding things along. Need to work on Trapped Virus... Anywho, Review, Fave, whatever... thank you!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Just a warning for this chapter, it contains self-harm! Not directly, but mentions and afterwards. So if that makes you uncomfortable, you can just skip tis chapter!**

+Italy POV+

I wiped the staining red from the floor with an old towel, sighing as my hand twitched and the towel flew from my grasp. My pain and useless feelings had all flowed out, along with several tablespoons of blood, leaving me feeling numb (literally, in the case of my left hand), but much more relieved. I retrieved the towel, dropping it into a laundry hamper, then cracking my knuckles and stretching. I slipped on a loose tank top, just in case any more surprise visitors decided to drop by for a friendly chat.

Walking back to my faithful bed, I once again flopped onto my face. What else was there to do but nothing? I smiled dryly into my pillow. Nothing was what I did best, after all. Contradictory to Austria, who seemed to think that all I was good for was free labor. He was right in the end, anyway. Good for nothing but silent work.

Thinking of my days at Austria's place lead me to thoughts of the boy, the one who had left me and broke his promise along with a heart that had once filled the void that now took its place. A feeling still lingered when I pictured him, a faint touch of breath against the last place he ever touched. I raised a shaking hand to my lips, touching them gently, trying to relive his last memento.

I knew I would never be able to, but one could always hope, right? Wrong. What was the point of hope? You'll just be disappointed in the end, disappointed and lost, and you won't ever be able to think or feel the same way ever again. So don't do it.

Anyway, I let my fingers fall away from my mouth and resume their positions at my side, clutching at my pockets, which had recently begun to resemble frayed patches from so much nervous… clutching.

A small growl from the stomach region encouraged me to open my eyes and grudgingly get up, heading down to the kitchen to grab something, preferably pasta. As I trudged down, I was startled to see a very angry Romano there, along with Big Brother France and Spain. Luckily, for me anyway, they didn't see me before I saw them, so I quickly ran back upstairs and threw on my uniform jacket. What was with all the intruders today?

My bare feet were shoved into boots, which then pounded down the stairs in a hurried panic as I arranged the expected facial features. Spain saw me first, and he smiled widely.

"Ita-chan!" he cried, reaching out to hug me. I ran to him with a smile that could rival his.

"Ve~, Spain-nii-chan! Ciao~!"

Romano pouted angrily. "Hey, Tomato B-"

I'll spare you the rest of what he said and leave it to your imagination.

"-, he's my fratello, I wanna talk to him!" he finished, his arms folded across his chest, his brown eyes glaring fiercely at the Spaniard. The man in question just laughed and hugged my brother tightly, provoking a creeping blush to appear on Roma's scowling face. He sputtered out what might have been words and attempted to push the other off, but failed and finally gave up. I smirked inwardly at this. Happiness just got you negative attention. Fratello and his dear Spain were perfect proof of that.

France walked up to me as the other two were bickering in the background and placed a steady hand on my thin shoulder. Actually, it was thinner than usual, since I had started starving myself. Who needed sustenance?

"Italy, is there something wrong? You can tell me, mon ami." he stated, an honest-to-goodness worried look in his eyes. Who knew the guy could be anything besides a flirt? Impressive, Francey.

At this point, Romano rejoined the conversation. "If that potato b- did anything to you, just say so, and I'll f- kill him!" he yelled from the corner, in which Spain had almost cornered him. He was putting up a decent fight for an Italian, really.

+Germany POV+

I was in the middle of a large stack of paperwork when I got the call. I almost didn't answer, but something told me to pick up the sleek black phone, so I followed those instincts. I had a haunting feeling that it would have something to do with Italy. As I held the phone to my ear, I heard the unmistakable voice of France, one of my most unfavorable enemies. What could he possibly want?

I listened intently, waiting for him to stop speaking in rushed French so I could understand what he was talking about.

"Allemagne, Allemagne! La coupe de l'Italie! Nous sommes allés à sa maison et j'ai vu ses poignets, mais il ne savait pas si le petit cutie pensait que nous ne savions pas, mais nous le faisons, et nous ne pouvons rien faire à ce sujet -"

I interrupted before he could get any farther. "Could you please speak in a language I can understand?" I said, an underlying growl evident.

"Oh, pardon! Of course, of course! What I meant to say was that I was just at Italy's house, and I found out that he's seriously depressed, judging by the scars on his wrists. He thought we hadn't seen, but we did, so… since you are his lover, I thought you could do something about it…"

"He's vhat?" I said, alarmed. Was this true? Italy, the happy-go-lucky, bouncy weakling Italy that I knew, was cutting? Why? I frowned. This was a serious problem. "Vhat do you vant me to do about it?"

"Well, you could go over to his house and get him alone, for one thing. Then, when he's least expecting it-"

I stopped him there. "I'll just talk to him." I said, about to hang up. Before I did, France got serious again.

"Please do. He needs all the help he can get, Germany. Adieu!" And with that, he hung up before I could. I set the phone down and sighed, pushing the chair back so I could stand, then scribbled a note to my boss about why the paperwork wasn't done. I almost ran out the door in my hurry to get to my ally, feelings of I didn't even know what building up inside my chest. As I drove to Italy's house, the feeling that was most dominant decided to graduate from my chest and hang over me entirely.

That feeling was dread.


	4. Chapter 4

+Italy POV+

I lay on my back, my eyes closed and my mouth positioned in a straight line. A new pattern of red lines adorned my wrist, where I was quickly losing room. I would have to move on to my upper arm next time. My jacket was slung over the arm of the sofa I was lounging on. well, maybe 'lounging' was the wrong word; I was far too stiff and uncomfortable. If even one more person bothered me today, I swear I'd-

I heard a knock at the door. It was hurried and frantic, I could tell, and the owner was obviously a larger man. I sighed and rubbed my eyes as I rolled of the sofa and stood, throwing my jacket over my shoulders and answering the door.

There stood that tall albino- Prussia, Germany's brother-, breathing heavily with a hand at his side gripping a small box.

"Ve~?" I exclaimed softly, slightly confused. He seemed confused as well, and glanced around before straightening up and shrugging.

"Hm, zhe Awesome Me seems to have zhe wrong house. I vas thinking zhat zhis vas Birdie's place… Vell, see you, Happy Italian!" he said as he waved a goodbye and jogged off, a frown returning to his normally arrogant face. I wondered vaguely who this 'Birdie' was, and what was wrong with them, but dismissed it. No need to worry about other people. It just wasted time.

I flopped back onto my sofa and buried myself in cushions, refusing to get up again. Ever.

Well, too bad for me, the author of my life hated me. Not that their feelings aren't mutual.

+Germany POV+

I ran up to Italy's door and paused to catch my breath and think about what I was doing. Why had I come running? It was his business what he did… But he was my dearest ally, even if he wasn't the most useful. The frown grew more pronounced on my face as I raised my fist to knock. When he didn't answer, I tried again.

What was taking him so long? I knocked once more, straining to hear anything beyond the barrier called a door. When I once again heard nothing, I panicked. Who wouldn't?

Well, actually… me, for starters. Under normal circumstances, I would probably be calm and collected about this, so why was I panicking now, and for Italy at that? I shook my head and banged my fist against the door. If he didn't answer…

Okay. I tried the doorknob, but it was locked. I would have to break down the door. Italy wasn't answering, and I was beyond worrying. I was somewhere in between frantic and hysterical.

I braced my arms against my side and ran at the door, my shoulder ramming into it and forcing it open.

"Italy!" I called, running into the living room. There he was, on his liege, his arms slung casually, limply, over his stomach, showcasing rows and rows of uneven scars. I knelt down beside him and shook his shoulder. "Italy, answer me!"

The boy's eyes flew open. "What the f-" he stopped when he saw me, his light brown orbs narrowing and darkening. "What do you want?"

"I- Italia…" I started, a knife of relief piercing my chest. He stopped me.

"How did you- oh. Accidenti!" he mumbled, cursing in his native language as he spotted the door. I stood back up and frowned. Why was he being so unfriendly, when he usually covered up with a laugh or something?

Oh, it must've been because I saw his arms, and he knows it. I flinched as he abruptly sat up, throwing the mound of pillows off like an unwanted blanket, and looked at me. His eyes were actually very pretty, he should have them open more often.

"So, what in the name of Hell do you want?" he asked again, a scowl adorning his face. Who knew he could sound so much like his brother? I swallowed and cleared my throat.

"Vell, I just came to check on you, vishes of your bruder France. I vas only going to stay a few minutes, but not anymore."

"Good. I didn't want to see you anyway."

"I'm staying here for a few weeks, if you don't mind."

"What? No!" he cried, his weak fists balled up. I stared at him, wondering how he could change so drastically in a matter of a few hours. That's how long it had been since I'd last seen him…

I rolled my shoulders and straightened my back, looking down at the Italian and making up my mind. I would stay until he was okay, until I knew he would never hurt himself again.

+Italy POV+

How could he? How _could_ he? Stupid France, you perverted idiot! You just had to go and tell that meat-headed German, didn't you? And now he's staying here! At my house! This is a horrible, terrible day. Just like all the rest.

I sighed and hid my face in my hands, resisting the urge to scream. Germany was staying in the guest room that Romano usually used, and I was planting myself up in my room. Forever. I didn't even care if he came up here and started dragging me out, I was staying right here in this exact spot.

I fell asleep to the sound of nothing, still sitting cross-legged and with my head still cradled in my hands, and awoke in that same position six hours later.

The creaking of boots on floorboards woke me up, and I wondered if someone had broken in for a moment before I remembered last night. Oh, that frikkin' German was here… that's right.

I rolled off the bed and stretched, the sight of my arms bare and scarred making me smile dourly. I slipped on a white and blue tee shirt, not bothering with my uniform, and padded slowly downstairs, thinking about just skipping breakfast again. Several countries wondered how I kept so skinny, but I never told the real reason. They might've suspected something.

I looked up as I reached the door to the kitchen and saw a large back, topped with a blonde head. I grimaced and punched the door frame softly. Germany.

"What are you doing in my kitchen?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed. He turned and saw me, then winced at the sight of my arms. I smirked at the thought of making him uncomfortable.

"Making you breakfast." he answered, turning back to the frying pan gripped in his strong hand and flipping some sausages.

"Oh really?" I muttered, walking over to sit down at the table. "Why?"

"So you'll eat somezing, zat's vhy." he practically growled at me, apparently annoyed by my presence. More smirking. "Oh, and Japan vill be visiting today. You might vant to be in uniform vhen he does, ja?"

My face fell. So now I'd have Asian's invading my house? I cursed under my breath. How many more did that darned author have to cause me misery?


	5. Chapter 5

+Japan POV+

"Herro, Germany-san." I bowed, smiling at seeing my friends again. I turned to Italy. "And herro, Itaria-kun."

The younger boy smiled and waved energetically. "Ve~ Hello, Japan!" he replied, his bouncy manner brightening my smile. Glancing at Germany, though, I realized he did not share my feelings.

"Germany-san, what's wrong?" I asked, walking up to him (still keeping a safe distance to avoid physical contact) and looking up at his stormy blue eyes.

"Oh, it's nozhing, Japan. Nozhing at all."

"Of course, gomen'nasai."

A loud voice burst out from behind me. "Your breasts are mine~ Da ze!" it cried, jumping on me and attempting to grab me. Used to it, I stepped out of the way and the intruding sibling landed on Germany instead.

"Vhat zhe-"

"Ah, hey! You're that muscular German Kiku talks about all the time!" South Korea said, sitting up on Germany's stomach and smiling widely.

"Yong Soo, get off of Germany-san right now!" I scolded, coming over to try and lift my little brother off of my ally.

"Aw, fine. His stomach wasn't any comfortable anyway~ Da ze." he pouted, folding his arms, his curl frowning along with him. I shook my head and bowed again, shooing South Korea out of the house. "Go find Hong Kong and Taiwan, I'm busy, arright?"

He pouted again and sulked out the door, glaring playfully at me. When he was gone, Italy closed the door, a confused look on his face.

"Vhat vas zhat?" Germany asked, scratching his head.

"Ah, that was my brother, South Korea. He insisted on coming arong with me." I explained, turning to my two allies.

"Ve~ Now that he's gone, who wants pasta~?"

+Italy POV+

I knew it! The Asians have some conspiracy against me! That's the only possible way to explain that tornado of- of- Korean! I blew off my suspicions by offering pasta, but that experience had been slightly disturbing. And when he was sitting on Germany's stomach, why did I get a pang in my own stomach? Was I having food withdrawal symptoms again?

I shook my head and busied myself with the pasta, absent mindedly rolling up my sleeves. I usually did that when I cooked, but had gradually stopped after I had started cutting. I guess old habits died hard… stupid habits. Why I had rolled up my sleeves… I would never fully know, but it was a frikkin' stupid idea.

Because right then, Japan walked in.

"Excuse me, Itaria-kun, can I-" he stopped when he saw my arms, speechless. after a few still moments, he started again. "G- gomen'nasai, um, I was just wondering if I could herp in any way. I'rr be reaving, then…"

I sighed. Now another idiot knew. Great, just fabulous. I frowned at Japan's retreating back and thought of several violent deaths, but dismissed them. Too much work.

Slamming the bowl of noodles onto the counter, I pulled my sleeves down and walked swiftly back into the sitting room. He was still there, talking with Germany. I had a pretty good idea of what they were talking about. Neither noticed me, so I went back to the kitchen and finished making the pasta, separating it onto the plates and whisking into the other room.

"Ve~ Pasta's ready!" I tried, glancing at Japan. He just frowned unsteadily and took his plate. Darn it, seriously! Why did he have to be so good at reading the mood and refraining from speech?

We sat down and began eating, residing in an awkward silence before Japan stood up again and bowed, his plate clean on the table. "Thank you for the meal. I must be going now, excuse me." And with that warm good bye, he hurried out of the room. I heard the door shut softly, leaving only Germany and I.

"So, he saw."

I nodded. "Yeah, so what? Not like he has any other friends, anyway."

Germany glanced at me sternly. "Zhat's not true."

"Sure it is. No please excuse me, sir, while I put your plate away." I picked up the plates and trudged back to the kitchen, piling them into the sink and leaving them be, not bothering to clean them. Not like I ever did, but…

Germany was still sitting in the same position when I walked back into the sitting room. I sighed and turned, making a split-second decision to go upstairs to my room instead. Germany just watched me go, his piercing blue eyes never leaving me.

/+/

_Italy. Italy._

What? Who was calling my name? The voice sounded so familiar…

_Italy. I'm back._

I turned to see the one boy who had ever made me happy. He was standing there, his black cape fluttering around his legs and his hat sitting lopsided in his blonde hair.

Holy Roman Empire.

I could feel my legs growing weak. "What? How? You- you're dead. You're dead!" I stuttered, half of me scared and the other half happy to see him, ecstatic even.

_Dead? No, never! Not while you're still alive and happy._

To anyone else, those words might have sounded romantic and sentimental, but the menacing tone behind them squashed any hope I had had about that. "What do you mean?" my voice was trembling. Darn it.

_You believed I was dead. Don't you have any faith in me? You really think I would break my promise?_

"I- Yes, I mean, it's human nature-"

_But Italy, we're not human._

"We might as well be!" I had noticed that he had Germany's eyes, but they now held a threatening glint.

_You betrayed me, Italy. You never believed in me, did you?_

"No, I-"

The boy ran at me, slowly growing until he became a familiar muscled figure. I gasped and closed my eyes, cold hands grabbing my arms-

Then I awoke to the sound of screaming. I pulled my blankets up to my chin, realizing it was me making all the noise, but unable to stop. That dream... what had caused that dream? It might not have been a nightmare, but it brought back so many nightmarish memories. And I wanted them to stop, go back to being buried underneath the newer thoughts of my mind.

My door swung open, revealing a heavily-breathing Germany with no uniform jacket or boots on. "Italy, vhat's wrong?" he asked loudly from the doorway.

I turned to him with scared eyes, the screaming subsiding. I just shook my head and turned away, wiping away tears I hadn't known were there. I felt a tilt in the mattress and realized that Germany had sat down on the bed.

"Italy, tell me vhat's wrong. I vant to help."

I sighed and tried to glare at him, but failed, settling for a simple scowl. "Nothing. It was just a nightmare, okay?" I knew I should feel afraid of the man, considering the content of the dream, but strangely, I was comforted by his steady, gruff voice. It was a while before I realized his hand was on my shoulder and he was talking.

"-want to talk about it?"

I assumed he was asking about the dream. "No." I turned away from him again and stayed that way until I heard him sigh, get up, and leave the room, the door still slightly ajar. The room felt strangely empty without his hulking presence.

Then I realized that I had cried for the first time in decades.


	6. Chapter 6

+Germany POV+

I felt like I should have stayed. I should have stayed and made sure he didn't hurt himself again, and that he was okay. But he wanted to be left alone, so I humored him. I felt like a coward, and not for the first time in my life. Strangely, it was always around Italy that I felt like this, and I had no idea why.

He had been crying, too. Did he cry often? From the Italy that I thought I knew, it would be easy to imagine… but the real Italy was hard to figure out. Why he did what he did, how he acted when no one was around. That wimpy exterior that he had always worn, I now realized, had actually been tougher than anyone could have guessed. So many things had happened so fast, I did't know what to do anymore.

So I decided to call Bruder.

"Love advice, ja?"

"Nein, Bruder."

"Oh, you already have zhe little minx zhen! Sex advice?"

"N- nein! Can I-"

"Who is it, by zhe vay? Zhat Belarus girl? Nezerlands? Oh! Is it Italy?"

"Bruder, it is not love advice! I need your help vith somezing!"

"Oh. Okay! Zhe awesome Prussia will help you, West!"

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. Why did I ever thing this was a good idea? "I have a friend who's been acting strange, and I don't know vhat to do. Zhey're depressed and I saw zhem cry last night."

"Kiss zhem."

"Zhat von't vork!"

"Vhat? It vorks vith Birdie!" he whined, obviously convinced that kissing was the best way to go.

"Nein. I'm hanging up."

"Okay, zhe Awesome Me vill see you! Kesesese!"

The click of the receiver was almost a relief when I set down the phone. Who ever made that obnoxious idiot my older brother really needed to think things through a little better.

I sighed, still lost on what to do about Italy. But before my thoughts consumed me, I heard footsteps on the stairs. "Italy? Are you awake already?"

"Yeah." I heard him answer. The simplicity of the reply surprised me, since I had expected some kind of sarcastic comeback, or maybe a long string of curses directed in my direction. I looked up at him and noticed dark bags under his eyes. Had he not fallen asleep after the… incident? I stood and walked over to him, placing my uniform jacket over his bare shoulders. He looked up and attempted a glare, yet accepted the kindness all the same. Was this weakness?

"Italy, you vant to talk about it now?"

He shook his head and flopped onto the couch, burying himself in pillows and refusing to emerge. I sighed and walked to the kitchen to start breakfast, looking for some sausages but only finding pasta. I guess this Italian would always be a pasta-lover, no matter what else was different.

+Italy POV+

I took a deep breath from under my secure mountain of pillows, smelling the heavenly scent of pasta, the only good thing in the hellish world. Even better, it was my German who was cooking it.

Wait, excuse me? Who's writing this? I did not just think that! Not at all! I could already feel the blush creeping up on me, even though I didn't just have that deeply disturbing thought there. Not at all. Just because he was no taking up residence in my house did not mean he was 'mine'. Okay?

I sighed and sat up, stretching and glancing at the scars on my wrists, fresh ones clear and red from last night. I considered putting on a jacket, but decided not to bother. Germany was used to it by now anyway. I stood up slowly and walked into the kitchen, staring at the back of Germany's head as he wiped down the counters, my gaze finally resting on the two plates of steaming pasta on the table, with a side of scrambled eggs. At least he was a good cook, right? Again, one good thing in this miserable world.

I sat down without a sound, too mentally drained to be as negative as I usually am. Germany turned and stepped back, obviously startled at the sight of me sitting quietly at the table. I glared at him and he sat as well, slowly gathering the food on his fork and beginning to eat, his curious eyes never leaving me. I didn't care in the slightest, not at all. All I cared about was the food in front of me and the next time I'd be able to be alone, with just the sound of running water and the feeling of a blade against my skin…

An unfamiliar feeling coursed through me as these thoughts ran through my head. It felt like… what was this… hesitation. Wow, hadn't felt that in a long time. Ever since Holy Rome left and I had given him the push broom, the one that I had never seen again. Which was really a shame; it had been such a nice, well-working broom.

After breakfast, I headed back to my room, not wanting to be stared at by that annoying German any longer. I swear, he was like a freaking Nazi. Excuse the very-much-intended joke at his expense.

+Japan POV+

Thoughts of Italy's scars had haunted me since yesterday. What had happened to cause them? I had figured out that he had inflicted himself, but why? What had happened in his past to give him so much sorrow that he had resorted to that? And how had he kept it bottled up so long? I hoped Germany-san was enough to stop him.

And then, maybe, they'd fall in love and have a beautiful romance… Please don't mind my yaoi. I need to stop spending so much time with Elizaveta-san.

**A/N: Sorry about the short, sucky chapter! I tried my best, it wasn't much... (Haha song references.) And hey! There's a Hungary reference! Hohohoho... Sorry. Anyway, review! And please stick with Ita-chan for a little while longer, thank you! Skál!, Hafðu það gott! **


	7. Chapter 7

+Germany POV+

I could feel the negative vibes flowing from Italy like water, through the subtle glares and the muttering under his breath all through breakfast. I chose to ignore it. Maybe barging into his room last night hadn't been the wisest choice on my part, but it was already done and couldn't be taken back, so he would have to learn to live with it. Speaking of living with it, we hadn't done training in a while. I supposed we could try that today instead of me attempting to get Italy to come out of his room and him yelling at me to 'go the f*** away'.

"Italy!" I called, walking up the stairs to the boy's room after cleaning the dishes and the table. Receiving no response, I opened the door and poked my head in. "Italy, come outside for training."

The brunette sat on his bed, staring at his hands, a thoroughly confused look in his eyes. He looked up at me and the aforementioned eyes widened, his mouth a single straight line.

"Get out, idiota!" he yelled, spinning around to face the other way. No, he was not getting rid of me that easily. I walked into the room.

"No. Come for training, Italy."

"I said get out! Can't you hear me?"

"I can hear you perfectly fine. Come on, we don't have all day."

The Italian whipped around to face me once more, anger brimming in his eyes. His small hands were clenched in fists, and his curl had been brushed out of place and was slicked against the side of his head. "I said no! Go away, you freaking b******!" One of the fists swung out, but I caught it swiftly, only having to move my hand upwards a bit. He was still physically weak, even if his personality was so different.

"Please?" I tried, my blue eyes no doubt hopeful. Italy just dropped his hand and stepped past me, running downstairs to bury himself in pillows again.

+Italy POV+

It was when I realized that he was holding my hand that I dropped my offending fist. Why had I gotten so angry? I didn't understand my own emotions anymore. And if I couldn't trust even those, what could I trust?

So I decided to escape from the cause of these jumbled feelings. I burrowed under my faithful sofa cushions for the second time that day. I would wait until that German wasn't paying attention, then run to Fratello's place. Which was also Spain's house, but I would have to put up with him to lose my bigger problem- that the one person I swore never to show emotion in front of was getting the better of me, without even realizing it.

Said problem came down the stairs and looked at my pile of pillows, sighing and running a hand through his blonde hair. "Italy, I'm not going to let you leave to go to Romano's."

How did he know my plan? I grumbled a few unflattering things and came out from the pillows. "Why not? Aren't I allowed to have free will?"

"No, not today. Go get ready, we're training."

I was left with no choice. I had to train with the potato idiot.

+Germany POV+

I took it as a good sign that Italy actually came out for training. I was already on the ground, somewhere in the hundreds pushup-wise, when he finally came out and sat down beside.

"I don't see why we have to do this." he mumbled, glaring at me.

"Because even zhough you are… like zhis… you're still my ally, and I intend to get you fit and ready to attack at short notice."

Italy stared at me, his brows furrowed, before he sighed and collapsed onto the ground next to me. "No."

"So now you have graduated from pretending to be veak, to flat-out refusing me?"

"Si." he answered, still glaring. I rolled my eyes and stood up from my pushup position, stretching.

"Vell, I'm going to start jogging. Are you coming?"

"No."

"Too bad."

I picked him up by his arms and set him on his feet, determined to get him to do something active. Gripping his hand, I began jogging, forcing him to stumble along beside me.

"H- hey! Potato b******! Stop!"

So now he had picked up his brother's nickname for me. Lovely. I continued, ignoring his protests and curses he threw at me, and achieved a full lap around the hill behind his house. Now for the second lap.

+Japan POV+

I had decided to pay Italia-kun another visit today, to make sure he was alright. I had talked about it with Heracles-san last night, and he agreed that this would be a good course of action. I stepped up to the front door and knocked, brushing a hand over my uniform to rid it of any noticeable wrinkles. After a few minutes, I realized I was receiving no answer, and knocked again. Why wasn't anyone answering? Were they out?

I walked around the side of the house, where we used to train every day, and saw the two (or what I assumed to be them, considering they looked like little smudges from where I stood) running around the base of the small hill. Hurrying closer, I soon saw that the two were holding hands. Why would they be holding hands? And how did Germany-san get Italia-kun to start running, anyway?

A fluffy cat with a heart-shaped marking walked by, and, getting distracted, I followed it. I would ask Elizaveta-san to spy on them later.

+Spain POV+

I had heard about Germany staying at Ita-chan's place from Francey-pants, and I was thoroughly relieved. It was good to have a lover around when you're going through hard times, that's why I had Lovi! Speaking of Lovi-chan, we were walking together when we saw it.

We had just witnessed America kissing England in the park, and Lovi had wanted to leave as soon as possible 'so I didn't get any ideas', he said. I myself thought it was an incredibly adorable gesture, but followed Lovino out anyway. Hand in hand, we decided to head over to Ita-chan's place to see if he was handling things better.

Going the back way was easiest, since we had already been walking in that direction, so we saw the small hill behind his house first as we approached. As we got closer, I noticed a pair of figures circling the base. Was that… Ita-chan and Germany? Holding hands? I smiled and nudged Lovi, shaking my head and pointing to the two. Scowling, he turned around nonetheless and we headed home. Looked like Ita-chan was okay now, si?

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the completely idiotic chapter, I was out of it this weekend... Yeah. And sorry for the confusing German accent of... Ludwig-san. Anyway! I got in a Spain POV because I had less than 1000 words! Yay for SpaMano! *hohoho* So, please review~! Byebye!**


	8. Chapter 8

+Italy POV+

We had held hands the whole time. The whole freaking time. And the horrible part of it was; I didn't mind it. I was quickly falling into the ways of the human world, 'falling in love'. It was the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me, because the last time I was in love, the boy went and got himself killed and broke our promise, even if some dream vision said he didn't. And let me say, this hurt. This really hurt me, because I suspected I had loved him for longer than I would admit. Even after I swore I would never bow that low for anyone ever again.

I was under my trusty pillows again, the only things that would always stay true to me. Such wonderful pillows, second best to pasta. Under the canopy of cushions, I looked forlornly at my wrist. Maybe if I got rid of a few drops of blood, I could get rid of this burdensome emotion as well. A long shot, but worth a try, right?

My volcano of pillows erupted as I rolled off the sofa and stepped over to the foot of the stairs, looking around for that German, and sighing when I didn't see him, whether out of relief or disappointment I didn't know, and didn't want to know.

My bedroom was a mess from my all-nighter, but I could always clean it later. I walked into the adjoining bathroom and took out the blade, fingering it slowly, closing the door as the pain came once more, seeping into me and staying there for a long, long time.

x-x-x

I woke up on the cold, hard, very uncomfortable tiles of the floor with blood slowly spreading out from the new cuts on my wrist, crisscrossing the old ones. I blinked a few times before the reality sunk in and I realized what must have happened. I guess I had passed out because of the small amount of blood loss. But why, after so long, why now?

I stood up and looked for a towel to wipe up the blood, not seeing any. I would have to go to the downstairs bathroom to find one. I walked into the hallway warily, searching for Germany again. He had made himself scarce after training; where was he? Deciding it was safe to venture downstairs, I slipped out of my room and ran to the other bathroom, grabbing the needed towel and escaping back to my bathroom.

Only to find that the circle of my blood was gone, and a small washcloth covered in red stains was on the counter. My eyes widened and I dropped the towel I had gotten in shock, confused as to how it could have been cleaned. Then I remembered Germany. Had he cleaned it? If he had, where was he? Why didn't I see him?

"Italy?"

Oh, there he was. I turned to see him in the doorway, uniform jacket tied around his waist as if he had been wiping something up- Ah. Okay. So it was him.

"What do you want, Nazi?"

He looked pained at that mention of his past, but continued. "Italy, please, you need to stop."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He frowned, obviously seeing right through my bluff. "Italy, you know vhat I'm talking about. Ozhervise, how vould you explain zhis?" he held up the bloody blade, and I realized I hadn't seen it since I had woken up. So he had had it the whole time… I glared at him and reached out for it, but he grabbed my arm before I could so much as touch it.

"Nein."

"Germany, this is none of your business! Why did you ever have to stick yourself into my life anyway?"

"If I recall correctly, it vas you who vanted to be allies."

He was right. I had been looking for someone who didn't seem too nosy, and he had seemed just that type, especially since he had wanted me out of his house the instant he captured me. He had seemed so reserved, but I guess I was wrong about him, huh? Just like so many other things.

"Maybe it was because I wanted to be allies with someone who would stay away from me!"

"And I seemed like zhat kind of person, ja?"

"Yes, exactly. So don't disappoint me now."

"It's a little too late for zhat, don't you zhink?"

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, realizing too late that there was still blood on my wrist, and now on my forehead. Great, fabulous! Another nuisance to take care of.

I walked to the mirror and used the towel I had previously dropped to wipe the blood of my hand and forehead, completely ignoring the tall German still staring at me.

"Italy, please, listen to me…"

"Get out."

"You need to listen, zhis isn't-"

"I said, get out of my house! Doesn't your stupid excuse for a country need you right now?"

I stood there, scowling at nothing, for minutes before I turned to see that he was gone. For once, he had followed one of my orders. And yet, was that really a good thing?

+Germany POV+

He told me to get out, so I did. I knew nothing I did would matter, nothing could make him stop if he didn't want to. I buried my face into my hands. He had always been stubborn, weakling or not, but now was not the time to be thinking about Italy's personality traits.

Why wouldn't he listen to me? I don't know what happened to mess him up so badly, but it obviously wasn't going to be resolved anytime soon. Looking back at the number of scars on his arms, it's probably been quite a while since it's happened. There were hundreds of years worth of pain on those arms, and it wrenched my heart to know that something was hurting Italy so badly. I needed to know what it was.

And who knew him better than his own brother?

x-x-x

"What the h*** do you want, potato b******?"

"Yes, guten tag, Romano. I need to talk to you about Italy."

The brunette glared at me but let me in anyway, stepping aside to let me pass. I glimpsed Spain in the kitchen, humming to himself as he made what looked like pizza. Romano gestured for me to sit, but I remained standing, as did he.

"So?"

"Ah, yes, I vanted to ask you… Do you know anyzhing about somezhing zhat could've happened to Italy vhen he vas younger? Somezhing traumatic?"

Romano's glare changed to a look of alarm. "Yeah, why?"

"I just… I need to know."

Spain walked in at that moment, wiping his hands on an apron. "I thought Ita-chan was getting better?"

"Nein. He's cutting vorse and vorse. Do you have an idea vhy?"

Spain glanced at Romano and sat in a wicker chair. "It might be because of Holy Roman Empire. He was heartbroken when the boy never came back from war."

I could feel my eyes widen, almost subconsciously. That name sounded so familiar, but I couldn't place my finger on why. "Vell, zhank you. Zhat's all I vanted to know." I nodded to the two of them and let myself out, walking away to go back to my house for the first time in what felt like forever.

Now that I knew what was wrong, would I be able to fix it?

**A/N: A very rushed chapter, I think... Sorry about that. Yeah, this thing is finally getting to the romance part... woo! So anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chap, and I reaaaally hope that I didn't make anyone too OOC... Review! **


	9. Chapter 9

+Italy POV+

I had hidden the blade. I didn't know where I had put it, didn't want to, didn't want to remember. And yet, at the same time, I did. I wanted to so badly, but I knew I would hate myself even more if I did. Internal struggles were so common these days, I had begun to ignore them. My thoughts raged out of control, but I just went about my usual business as if all was fine. When had they started? After Germany left? Before he came? Or… farther back? I had forgotten.

I looked around my bathroom, wondering vaguely what I was doing in here. I had just kind of wandered in from boredom, and had no clue as to what I was supposed to do. At least when Germany was here, I kept myself busy by avoiding or annoying him, or possibly both. I almost laughed as I realized that I missed that b******. I hadn't laughed in… wow, almost a hundred years.

I wish I wasn't so vacant right now. Literally, I felt like there was nothing anywhere. Maybe if I still had an ounce of energy left, I could find something to do. When was the last time I had wanted something like this? Geez, I hated love. Assuming it was love that was causing this, which it most likely was, since I had no other explanation. Stupid, stupid human emotions.

Finally leaving the room, my feet tingled. Had all the blood rushed to my legs as I stood there, doing nothing? Oh well, didn't matter. I walked downstairs and helped myself to some tasteless pasta, which usually would have cheered me right up. Well, as cheery as a depressed person could get, anyway. But it had no effect on me now, not when I was so gone.

A knock at my door caught my attention, and I sluggishly went to answer it. Who could possibly want to visit me, and why? I shrugged and threw the door open, preparing my smile, but saw that it was France. His ugly bearded face brought the scowl back full-force.

"What do you want?"

"Ah, mon petit Ita-chan! You do not look well, is everything well?"

"You know d*** well it isn't."

He winced and looked at me, right at my face, the spot his eyes had been avoiding this whole time. "Oui, I do. Is it because your amour left? Or are you still… découpage?"

I sighed. "No, I'm not- Wait, what the f***? Who's my amour?"

France frowned, a glint in his eye. "It is not Germany?"

"Heck no! Why would I-" I spluttered, trying to think of something, but gave up. "No. Just no."

"Non? Sorry, I could've sworn-"

"Just drop it."

"Oui, I'm sorry. I just wanted to check on you. Many people are worried for you, mon petit frère. Please set their minds at ease soon, oui?"

I glared at him and shut the door, tired of his repetitive French. I didn't want to see him, or anybody, or anything.

Well, maybe one somebody.

No, nevermind.

+Germany POV+

"Bruder."

"West! Hey, come back for zhat advice?" my albino brother winked suggestively, putting down the picture he had been looking at. I glanced at it, seeing a blonde with round glasses, but didn't stop to wonder who it was.

"Nein." I sighed. Why did everything he ever said always lead back to something dirty? "I need to ask a question. Who vas zhe Holy Roman Empire?"

Prussia's eyes widened, filled with surprise. "V- vell, he vas a part of our family. Vhy do you ask, bruder?"

Why was there that note of nervousness in his usually confident voice?

"Oh, nozhing important. It could be beneficial to saving Italy's life is all."

More widened eyes. "His life? Vhat's happened to Italy?"

"I vould tell you, but you are obviously keeping secrets from me, so I vill keep zhem from you."

Prussia frowned, an actual serious expression on his face. "Fine, I vill tell you, bruder."

A pause, a long pause.

"He vas the youngest out of us, and it vas his first time going to war. He had promised to come back to Italy vhen zhe war vas over, but he never did make it. He had lost the war."

He stopped there. "And…?" I prompted. I needed to know about Holy Roman Empire! Why was he hesitating?"

"He- he died. France killed him. He vas only able to tell me, on zhe battlefield, zhat he vanted to see Italy one last time. But he couldn't. The next few years, nobody would tell Italy anything, and he didn't find out until I finally told him."

"Is zhat it? Vell, zhank you, bruder-"

"Listen, West, I'm not done."

It was really different to hear such a strained note in his voice.

"I found you only a month afterward, vith you insisting zhat you vere Holy Roman Empire. Of course, you vere so little, you probably don't remember it."

"Zhen how did I become Germany?"

"Vatti explained it to you, zhat Holy Rome vas dead, and he renamed you. Ve don't know vhy you vere so intent on being zhe dead little fellow."

I couldn't say anything. It was way too confusing, and to take this all in… Why did I think I was Holy Rome? Didn't he die? I had never heard of him before now…

"Vell, danke, Bruder. Goodbye."

I left and walked to my house, pondering what I had heard. I think I understood Italy's depression now, but I needed to find a way to help him. And I swear, I will.

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! Yes, I added boring Prussian talking. Yay! But yeah, I hope you like this chapter. Seriosuly, please enjoy it. It would be nice. But anyway, Italy's getting really nostalgic lately. I hope that's not dragging down the mood of the story... I know, lots of you wanted Germany to be HRE, but I couldn't. It's too cliché. So, this is what happened! Sorry about that! Comment! ^^**


	10. Chapter 10

+Spain POV+

"Roma!"

The Italian jumped and fell off the couch with a long string of cuss words, startled by my sudden outburst. "What in the name of Hell do you want, tomato b******?" he stuttered, when he finally was able to stand up and sit back down on the couch once again.

"Do you wanna go check on Ita-chan?" I asked, resting my head on my hands.

"Fine." Romano huffed, stepping over to slip his shoes on. "Well? Hurry up!" he yelled over his shoulder, and I ran up and grabbed his hand.

"Si, Lovi~!" I smiled, and we began walking over to the other Italian's house.

As we reached the front door, we noticed the absence of Germany's car. Had he gone shopping? Or had he… left?

I knocked on the door, already worried. "Ita-chan? Italy?" I called, trying to look in through the front window. No answer.

"Hey, Fratello!" Romano yelled, banging on the door. I took out the spare key I had and opened the door, looking for Italy in the front sitting room.

"Italy! Are you here?" I worriedly climbed upstairs and wandered into Ita-chan's room, absentmindedly switching to his human name. My feet took me to his bathroom, where a disastrous sight caught me off guard. "Romano! Come here, hurry!"

+Italy POV+

I found it. I don't know what overtook me, but next thing I knew I was waking up in someone's arms, with someone else speaking in rapid Spanish nearby. My vision was blurry, and my mouth was dry. "Wha…?"

"Spain, he's awake!"

Was that Romano? What was he doing here?

"¡Gracias a dios! Ita-chan, what were you thinking?"

Oh, was Spain here too? I looked up through the haze in my eyes and saw him, holding up the blade. The wonderful, horrible thing.

"I-" I tried, but couldn't get any words to come out. I just settled for shaking my head and closing my eyes again, as the bright light was hurting them.

"An ambulance is on the way." I heard the Spaniard tell Fratello. No, I didn't want an ambulance. I was fine, this had only happened once before, I hadn't lost that much blood… I tried to communicate this, but they wouldn't listen to me. That, or I wasn't making any real noises. Maybe they were just in my head.

I gave up on speaking and eventually fell unconscious again.

The next time I knew what was going on, a pair of stronger arms were around me.

+Germany POV+

"Ja, zhis is Germany."

"Italy's in the hospital"

I heard the words, I could almost feel the pain behind them, and yet I didn't want to comprehend what they meant. So I changed the subject.

"Who is zhis, please?"

"This is Spain. We found Italy on the floor of his bathroom, bleeding. Why did you leave, Germany? Didn't you know something like this would happen?"

He sounded so angry, not like his usual happy self, the Spain that I knew. I had suspected he would do something like this, but I had to leave. In order to help at all, I had to get out like he had told me to.

"Ja, of course I did! I'm coming over right now, which hospital is it? I'll explain there."

x-x-x

"Italy… why did you do it again? Why did you start in the first place? How could a little boy drive you to this?"

Nobody else was in the room, no nurses, no Spain or Romano, just Italy and I. I was muttering to myself, not sure if he could hear or not, not even sure if it mattered at all. Didn't he know how many people loved him, how many people were worried about him, how many people wanted him back? All those people, including me. We all just wanted him safe and happy.

I hugged him and stood up to leave, when his voice stopped me.

"Doitsu…"

I turned, surprised he had called me by that name. My eyes rested on him, my mind registering that he was still out like a light. Why did he mumble that nickname when he was asleep? I walked back over and placed my hand on his, slightly ashamed that I could only show how I felt when he wasn't even aware of what was going on around him. His voice came again, and when I looked up, he was awake.

"Doi- Germany, what the heck are you doing to my hand?"

I almost smiled. At least he was awake, even if he was back to being pissy. I removed my hand from his and hugged him tightly, glad he was finally awake and deciding to take a risk.

"Get of me, Potato B******!" he stammered, pushing me off and turning away, his arms folded. I shook my head and stood up to leave, gathering my jacket.

"Goodbye, Italy. See you later, ja?"

"No."

+Italy POV+

Why was I in a hospital room? Oh, that's right, I collapsed again. Why was my weakness being so annoyingly obvious lately? It was wearing my down to my last thread… seriously. And why was that blasted Nazi here when I woke up? He made me feel so unreal inside, it made me want to rip something out and crush it. Maybe my heart, or my lungs so my breath would stop hitching when I saw him. Yeah, that's it.

I stood up and glanced at the bandage on my skinny wrist, disgusted by the pure white, untainted by blood. I would have to change that when I got home, even if my subconscious told me that it wasn't right. Who cared? Who freaking cared about me, about what I was doing with my own life? Even if it did ruin my economy, the weather in fair Italy, and probably everything else. The people could take care of it themselves; they obviously didn't need a country figure anymore. They did perfectly fine on their own.

A nurse walked in and saw me on my feet, her bright purple eyes widening behind her glasses. "P- please, Mr. Vargas sir, sit back down. You haven't been dispatched yet!"

"So what?" I asked, pushing past her and walking out the door.

"Mr. Vargas!" she cried from behind me, while I kept walking, spotting Spain and South in chairs by the door.

"Hey, Spain! Give me some clothes or something!"

"Oh, Ita-chan! Have you been released already?" Spain smiled at me, asking the question as he hugged me.

"H*** no. But I'm leaving, so give me some normal clothes so I can go home!"

"S- si." he sighed, handing me his jacket and telling Romano to give me the extra shorts he had brought for me.

I changed quickly and was soon storming out of the cursed hospital, a strong emotion rising in my chest.

No, it wasn't love.

It wasn't happiness, or anything of the sort.

It was the thirst for blood. My blood.

**A/N: Hey guys, another crappy chapter... but the next one will be really sad, I promise! Maybe! Please review, it would be nice. And about the *** on the word Hell, I was trying to keep it readable for the young children in my house. ^^; Anyway, thank you, love you guys!**


	11. Chapter 11

+Italy POV+

Spain had left. Romano had left. They had taken my blade, my only comfort, the scourge of my existence. But that's okay; I still had the kitchen knives. Those could work just as well, right?

Tonight. It would have to be tonight. No matter what anybody did, no matter what anyone said or who said it, nothing could stop me. I was so fed up with this, with everyone pretending to care, with Holy Rome dead and long gone. I just didn't want this anymore.

I knew it was selfish, it wasn't fixing anything, but it's what I had to do. Nobody would notice I was gone anyway. It was the perfect circumstance, really. If no one saw, no one would know, right? Especially since the world meetings were so noisy and crowded; when would anyone pay any attention to the absence of someone like me?

I walked calmly down to the kitchen and opened the cabinet holding the shining knives, picking one up and fingering it slowly. A drop of blood fell from my finger and I smiled dryly, my chapped lips curving painfully. Back up the stairs I went, back into the bathroom where all my dark secrets were held, and exposed my pale wrist. Stripping off the white bandage, I held it away from me.

Tonight. Everything would be alright after tonight, after I cut deeper than I had ever cut before. My good-for-nothing soul would probably be relieved to be free of this corrupted body.

The towel was ready, in case it didn't work and I had to wipe up evidence before anyone saw. Of course, I would be trying again. Why commit if you weren't going to follow through? I sat, criss-crossed, on the floor, ready to begin for the last time in my short, miserable life. Lowering the knife, I applied the pressure. Right there, that vein. I was so used to this pain, I didn't even think about it anymore. Until the edge bit deeper into the flesh, that is…

"Italy! Italy, vhere are you?"

Crap! What was he doing here? I continued, ignoring the German who was one of the root problems.

"Italy, I know you are home! In zhe upstairs bathroom! Zhat's vere you always go!"

So he had me figured out… good for him. Too bad it was so late in the game.

"Italy!"

His voice was so much closer. I hesitated, which proved to be a mistake. Germany burst through the door and he looked down, seeing me with the knife pressed to my wrist, blood already spurting out. I realized my vision was getting fuzzy again, and I fought to keep my mind awake. I wanted to see Germany's reaction. I wanted to see his horrified face.

He didn't say anything, just looked at me sternly and gently pried the knife away from me.

"W- Wait! No, quit it! Why are you stopping me?" I cried, reaching for the knife that he held away from me.

"Vhy do you zhink, Italy? I don't want you to die, zhat's vhy! I could tell zhat vas your objective zhe moment I valked in!"

I stopped glaring at him and instead focused on my arms. The scars made crosses and parallel lines, old ones fading and new ones standing out, some still red and fresh.

"I don't get it. It's so obvious you want me gone, but you come barging in here saying you're saving my life! Make up your mind, will you?" I spat angrily at him, fire in my voice. There was a silence before he answered. That silence scared me.

"I never vanted you gone, Italy. You are a valuable ally, one I do not vant to lose. So don't kill yourself. And if my feelings don't matter, zhink of Spain's and Romano's. Zhink of France, who told me about zhe cutting so I could help you. He doesn't vant you dead either. No one does."

"Yeah, right. They never really cared. If they did, France never would have killed Holy Rome!" I burst out, instantly regretting it. Now he knew, great…

"I already knew about Holy Roman Empire, if zhat is vhy you look like you vant to murder me."

I clenched my fists. He had known this whole time? How? I bit my lip and stood up quickly, making a lunge for the precious knife that would stop the insanity.

"Italy, nein!" Germany yelled, pushing me away and causing me to fall. I looked up at him once more, scowling with all the hatred and anger I could muster, which was quite a lot, considering.

"Let me do it! It's not like you're the one dying!"

There were flames in his eyes, flames from some emotion I didn't fully understand. "Oh, ja? I'm not zhe one dying? I vould still feel your pain, Italy."

"What do you-"

He had put the knife against his wrist.

"What are you-"

He put pressure on the handle, and a bead of red formed.

"No, stop, what-"

More blood.

"Germany, stop!" I screamed. There was something piercing my insides, twisting and stabbing at me. It was something that I didn't know of, but wanted it to disappear nonetheless. "Please, stop!"

"Italy, do you see? Zhat's vhy-"

I slapped him before he could finish. "Why would you do that, you motherf****** idiot? Don't do that to yourself! You have no right to burden yourself with what I've done!"

I realized there were tears running down my cheeks. I didn't know what to do, especially since I was still bleeding profusely. But my first priority was Germany. I grabbed the knife from his hand and threw it away from him, making sure he didn't try again.

"Italy." he said, trying to catch my attention. I looked up and took a deep breath, but not before he had enveloped me in another hug. Instead of pushing him away again, I clutched at his shirt, deriving comfort from the alien gesture. "Italy, I'm sorry. Bt do you see vhy you shouldn't do it anymore? Zhat's zhe kind of feeling other people get when you do zhe same zhing. Understand?"

"Si, yes," I sobbed, saying it twice just for good measure. This strange switch in demeanor was unnerving, even more so since it was myself breaking down like this. I hated this, but it just felt right. More right then all those scars, all those times I had gone numb from the blood I was losing. I doubted anything had ever felt better.

Except Holy Rome.

With that thought, I let go of Germany and looked down at my own wrist, still covered in dark red.

And passed out.

+Germany POV+

It was the first thing that popped into my head, the first idea that made any sense at all. So I did it, with no thought of the consequences. Honestly, I'm surprised it worked at all, since Italy seemed to hate me with a deep passion. But it had, and that's all that mattered. I had bandaged Italy's wrist quickly and drove him to the hospital after he lost consciousness, and now was waiting in a chair beside the door to his room, just waiting to be able to see him.

I wasn't sure what had come over me when I hugged him like that, and I still couldn't make a logical explanation as to why Italy had hugged back. One minute he's cursing me out, the next he's breaking down in tears because of something I did. Would I ever truly understand my ally, the one I wanted to be more than an ally to? A friend, a comrade, a partner…

Or something like that.

A nurse came out and smiled shyly at me, her blonde hair framing her pale face. "He's awake, and asking for you."

I thanked her and walked into the room, confused about why he would ask for me first thing.

"Italy…?"

He looked straight at me, glaring daggers. "This is your fault, you know."

"Sorry for saving you."

"Not that! Now I have doubts about whether or not I want to die! It's your fault I'm still alive, it's your fault I'm so unsure these days… everything's on your shoulders." he huffed, the death glare still on his face. I frowned and stepped closer.

"Vhy is it my fault?"

"Because I-" he stopped himself and his cheeks turned red, from anger, I assumed.

"Vell, again, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, idiot." he answered, flipping me off. I sighed and turned to leave, but he called me back.

"Who said you could leave?"

"It vas pretty apparent you didn't vant me here." I replied, an eyebrow raised. Okay, his face was definitely very red. Was he unable to breath? Should I call a nurse in or something? I wondered about this while Italy motioned to the seat beside his hospital bed.

"Sit down."

I obeyed his command, sitting down on the small chair and looking him square in the eyes. "Ja?"

"Why did you do that? And for someone as despicable as me?"

I ran a hand through my hair, not sure how to answer. Then a line, a ridiculously cheesy line, jumped to the front of my thoughts.

"Because," I stated, "I vant to be your Holy Rome."

**A/N: Hi! Wow, two chapters in the same day... whew... that probably means this is bad quality, but whatever! Haha... Yeah. This story's moved quite quickly, huh? Anyway, review and whatnot! It gives me motivation! **


	12. Chapter 12

+Italy POV+

What? What did he say? I swear I didn't hear him right… I could've sworn he just said 'I want to be your Holy rome'. But he couldn't have said that, no way, no how. I'm just an ally to him. Just another nation to use in his useless wars… those words shouldn't have come out of his mouth. No.

But they did, didn't they?

I stared at him for a long time before my mind would start working again.

"W- what? That doesn't- you- I- this can't be happening!"

He looked slightly crushed. I said the wrong thing again.

"Ja, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said zhat…"

"No! No, that was… that was nice…" I mumbled, my face blossoming scarlet.

Germany stared at me for a while, in amazement or confusion, I didn't know. I didn't dare look.

"Oh. Okay zhen. I mean, can I…?"

Oh gosh, I hadn't answered him yet! Here he was, confessing, and I wasn't even thinking about my answer! So I said what he probably expected me to say.

"No."

Again with that crushed look. What was making me so much like a- a- teenage girl? I wanted him to smile! "I- I mean, nobody can replace Holy Rome. He will always hold a special place in my heart, but… you can still be my Germany."

That came out so wrong. I had never said anything so ridiculously stupid and love-sick and idiotic in my life, and I had done some pretty dumb things.

Like fall in love, for example.

I collapsed back on the bed and covered my face, trying to hide my utter embarrassment.

"I could do that." I heard him reply after what felt like hours. He wanted to be my Germany? How sweetly pathetic, the little voice in my head decided to say.

Shut up, voice.

"Thanks, but, once you're mine, no one will know. I don't think half the nations know who I am, and even if they did, they wouldn't care. Nobody cares." I mumbled, still depressed and unable to get those thoughts out of my head.

"I care. Is zhat not enough?"

I peeked through my hand. D***, I was becoming a softy.

+Germany POV+

Italy looked at me through his fingers, an evident glare on the edge of showing up. He was being so calm about this, I had honestly expected an angry outburst about how stupid I was to ever think that and why would he like a Nazi? Even though he was my ally, and that made him a Nazi too. But that's not the point at hand, his answer was.

Why was I so worried about an answer to a confession when his life had just been in danger?

And why was I calling that a confession? It's not like I had told him I loved him… even if I did. Maybe.

He was gazing- well, his eyes were devoid of the usual simmering anger, anyway- at me, one hand still on his face, the other resting on his stomach.

"Hey, German b******." he said, noticing that I was spacing out and staring at his hand.

"Ja?" I snapped to attention, the heels of my boots even clicking together.

"Yes."

"What?" What was it he was answering with that simple 'yes'? Had I asked a question?

"Yes, you caring is quite enough."

Oh, that's what he meant. If that was all… Wait, he said yes? I could feel my face heating up, but my composed frown stayed put, even if my cheeks were a bright shade of tomato red.

Speaking of which, where was Spain? I had called him earlier.

"So, vhat do you mean?" I asked, trying to get somewhere.

"I mean I like you!" he hadn't meant to say that, I could tell. He clapped a hand over his mouth and blushed, his eyes regaining the anger factor. This was getting really awkward.

"O- oh." I really didn't know what else to say. So I bent over to hug him again, because that was the only thing I thought to do, although most Germans weren't the hugging type. As I wrapped my arms around his waist, he grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me forward, his lips connecting to mine.

Mein Gott, we were kissing.

I pulled him closer and we deepened the kiss, only breaking apart for a gasp of air. Italy leaned in again, his honey-brown eyes locked onto mine, our lips only an inch apart...

And then Spain fell into the room, Romano tripping over him and falling in as well.

"Vhat zhe-"

"Oh, sorry, sorry! Please don't mind us! Go ahead!" the Spaniard smiled, motioning for us to continue. We gaped at him, half in mortification that someone had caught us kissing, and half ticked off that he had interrupted us.

I straightened up and stood, letting go of mein Italien. "Nein, I should be going. Excuse me." I walked past the intruders, running a hand through my hair and turning beet red as soon as the door closed behind me.

+Italy POV+

When did I turn into such a wimp? Why did I kiss him? It's not like I wished we were a thing or anything. Stop thinking that.

Spain and South had obviously been listening at the door. How much had they heard? How much did they know? I couldn't let this get out, no way. Not in a million years. I sighed and looked at Spain, trying to shoot him with invisible mind rays. It didn't seem to work.

I really hoped he wouldn't tell the rest of the nations about this. This didn't mean anything, nothing at all.

+Spain POV+

Ita-chan was obviously doing better, since we had heard some very beautiful things while eavesdropping- er, waiting outside the door. Roma had been cursing in his native language the whole time, his face contorted in anger, while I smiled happily and continued listening.

Germany had looked so flustered a he walked out, I wondered if they had kissed already, or had I interrupted their first? Oh dear, what a horrible thought. I smiled and looked down at Ita-chan.

"How are you, Italy? Is your arm okay?"

"No, idiota. What do you think?"

"Ah, of course!" I laughed, making light of the situation. Someone had to keep smiling, right?

**A/N: I apologize for the sappy chapter! I try, I really do... I bet half of you were expecting a lemon, huh? Not here, sorry! But anyway, yeah, Italy seems to be getting better... seriously, who suddenly turns un-depressed like that? I'm so bad at writing this XD Anyway, please review! **


	13. Chapter 13

+Germany POV+

I lay face-down on the bed, one finger on my lips where Italy's had touched. It seemed to tingle still, even after an hour or so, but it wasn't unpleasant. I revelled in it, if you will.

I wondered when Italy would be let out of the hospital. This was the second time in as many days that he had been admitted, and I hoped it wouldn't become a pattern. It would kill me if he continued his bloody hobby, if not him first.

Morbid thoughts. I needed to stop. My heart was beating too fast for morbid thoughts. As if on command, my mind switched to thinking of training with Italy. Maybe it would be easier now, with Italy at least a little better, right? Ja.

Eventually, I fell asleep, one hand still positioned over my mouth. When I awoke, it was dark outside and the digital clock beside my bed showed 2:17 am. Unable to fall back to sleep, I stood up and stretched, walking through the sitting room to get to the kitchen.

I never made it to the kitchen right then. There was a small Italian on my sofa, eyes closed and curled up in a ball.

"...Italy?"

He didn't stir. I walked over and shook his shoulder as gently as i could, hoping he would wake up. "Italy?"

"Hm…?" he grunted sleepily, his eyes opening slowly. "What…?"

"Italy, you vere asleep on my couch."

"... Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that." he yawned. "I got in with the spare key under the welcome mat, if you're wondering. I was dispatched at 10, and came here, but you were sleeping, so…"

"So you were waiting for me?"

He blushed. "N- no, not really."

He was so tsundere, it was adorable. I smiled and continued the walk to the kitchen, asking if he wanted anything.

"No, I'm fine. But I need to talk to you about… about the kiss."

There was fear in his voice. Fear, hesitation, and something close to desperation. I didn't want to turn around to see why.

"Vhat about it?" My face was turning a deep red just thinking about it…

"We can't let anyone know."

I decided to turn to him. Did he want to keep our relationship a secret? Was he ashamed? Did we even have a relationship? "Vhy not, Italy?"

"Because I don't want anyone to know that I've fallen in love. In all honesty, I don't want to know that I fell in love. I refuse to admit to myself that I've fallen for you."

So he didn't actually love me enough to want to, is that what he was saying?

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I never wanted to like you at all, nevermind love you! Ever since Holy Rome died, I've been afraid to even open up to anyone in fear that they'd leave me as well! If anyone found out, they'd support us! I don't want support, I want to stop loving you! If I didn't love you and you left, it would still be fine. I wouldn't break anymore." he took a deep breath as he finished, his eyes wild as the realization of what he had said hit him.

I myself stood frozen, my heart as still as the rest of me. He didn't want to like me, so why would he? I think I understood a little better, but that understanding came with pain and hurt that I had never experienced before. It made me want to curl up and hide, made me want to disappear. Was this what Italy had felt all those years?

"I - Italy…"

"No, stop. Don't say anything. It'll make me regret that, I just know it."

"Italy, please. I won't leave you, I promise."

"You can't say that for sure. You could die in battle, you could be torn from me by your boss, anything could happen. So you can never say that in complete certainty."

A struggle was going on inside of me, one part wanting to embrace Italy and tell him that yes, I did know for certain, one part wanting him to leave and let me stop loving him in turn, still another part screaming at me that I'd never be able to do that, but let him do what he wants.

I didn't know what to do anymore. What could I do, with everything happening like this?

+Italy POV+

I was hurting him, it was obvious. But I couldn't stop. It was like a disease, spreading and putting words with nothing behind them in my mouth to infect Germany. I wanted to run over and hug him, say I was sorry, maybe kiss him again, but the words I was spitting out held a small seed of truth in them.

That's what killed me inside the most, that I had never asked to love Germany but did, and now couldn't seem to let go of him. Why did everything always happen to me like this?

The room had fallen quiet, but the silence was deafening, because of the heavy rejection behind it. If I was going to do anything, now would be the time…

But my legs wouldn't move. They couldn't. D*** it, why now? When we both needed it the most, my body was motionless.

"Vell, I'll be going zhen." There's that crushed look. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't; his eyes mesmerized me.

'_No, I didn't mean it, come back, please...'_

Why couldn't I say it, why wouldn't the words come out of my mouth? The door closed behind Germany, but still I stood there, regretting every moment since I had woken up.

And where was Germany going? This was his house!

My mind finally sent the message to my nerves, and my legs started moving, running after Germany. He was already at the end of the street, turning the corner, not even paying attention to the signs like he usually did. I chased after him, trying to reach him before he did anything as stupid as I had before.

But that's before I saw the speeding truck.

**A/N: I'm sorry for the even worse chapter. Please don't kill me **


	14. Chapter 14

+Japan POV+

I had heard from Spain-san that Germany was no longer at Italy-kun's house, and that same Italy was in the hospital. Heading to Germany's place as soon as possible, I was walking along a street that was quickly becoming more and more vintage-German. It was quaint, as if straight out of a manga, especially in the pre-dawn starlight.

I turned a corner and saw Germany coming my way, his eyes downcast and his jacket flowing out behind his broad shoulders. I raised my hand in greeting, raising it to shoulder height, but noticed the truck speeding along the road faster than was legal, driving right towards my blonde ally. I opened my mouth to call to him, but a brunette blur beat me to it.

"Germany! Stop!" he shouted, his weak voice somehow strong. Germany turned to look at him, just in time to be pushed out of the way by the Italian. They tumbled out of the way, the speeding truck narrowly missing them by just a little more than an inch. I quickly caught the license plate number under the dim lights from nearby windows and dialed the police, reporting the speeding driver as I ran over to my friends and knelt down to make sure they were alright.

"Are you two okay?"

"Yes, zhank you, Japan." Germany answered, his eyes seeming to uncloud. Why had they been clouded in the first place? He turned to the younger nation and lifted his chin to look into his eyes. "Are you okay, zhough?" he questioned, staring into the light browns with his forget-me-not blues.

"No. Why weren't you paying any attention, idiota? You could have died! Didn't we just go over this in your sitting room?" Italy yelled, his small fist colliding with Germany's muscular chest but obviously doing no physical damage.

"Where you two talking earrier?" I asked, wishing I could say 'l's so my sentences would make sense.

"Yes, ve vere. It is none of your concern, Japan."

I shook my head. I was their ally, everything they did was my concern. Not to mention that I was their number one yaoi fanboy, so I deserved to know what they did when they were alone. "Yes it is. I am your arry. I should know what you have done without me in attendance. Prease terr me."

"I- it's really personal, so…" Italy responded, refusing to elaborate and blushing. "Could you leave us alone for a bit? Go see Greece or something." He turned back to Germany and started to speak, and I took that as my cue to get out of there. I headed to Heracles-san's house, wondering if he had any new cats.

+Germany POV+

I hadn't even noticed the truck. Was I so affected by Italy's statements that I was lacking my normal discipline? We were still huddled on the sidewalk, and I was only relieved that Italy hadn't been hurt when he had pushed me out of the way. He began talking as soon as Japan turned to leave.

"Don't you ever dare do that again, stupid b******! What were you thinking, just randomly walking into the street? What if you had been run over? What would I have done then?"

There was definitely anger in his voice. Hadn't he just finished saying that he didn't want to love me? What made him change so quickly, so often? I didn't know if I should say anything, or if I could.

"You're so ignorant! How do you not notice a huge truck driving towards you at a hundred miles an hour?"

"Zhat's an exaggeration-"

"Shut up, I'm trying to yell at you!"

I noticed there were tears held in his eyes that he didn't want to cry, but it would happen eventually. I leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry Italy, it von't happen again. I promise."

The Italian stared at me for a long time before sighing and wrapping his arms around me. "No, I'm sorry. It's my fault, isn't it?"

"Nein! It vas me-"

"No, it was me. I said those horrible things, and look where it got us."

His grip tightened and I was positive there was a real apology in those words. "So, does zhis mean…"

"Germany, will you be my boyfriend?"

+Italy POV+

I was so weird. I could say one thing one minute, and a completely different thing the next. But I was just saying what felt right. And asking Germany to be mine was the right thing. That truck had made me realize how easily I could lose him, and I didn't want that anymore. Even if I did stop loving him, I still would have lost him, even if it was in a completely different sense. I would have lost everything, but I won't let that happen anymore.

"I- Italy…" the taller nation stuttered, and I held up a finger.

"Feliciano. Call me Feliciano."

He was blushing, and I knew why. Only countries in really close relationships called each other by their human name, like America and England.

"Of course, Ita- Feliciano."

I smiled and reached up to press my lips against his, both of us holding the other as close as possible on that darkened sidewalk. We broke apart, and he cleared his throat.

"Ludwig." he said quietly, but I knew what he meant. I beamed, my first true smile in what felt like forever, and it was because of him. He was the reason for so many things, some good, some bad, but they had all led up to this moment.

And this moment was perfect.

x-x-x

I yawned and opened my eyes, rubbing them to eradicate all sleep that had resided in them. It was a bright, sunny day according to the window across from my bed, and more so because of the happiness that inflated my heart. It took me a second to remember why, but then it hit me.

Germany and I were finally together. We were an 'item', as Hungary would say. I allowed myself a moment of comfort in bed, then stood up, walking downstairs to see if Germany was awake yet. He had insisted that I stay at his house the rest of the night, then told me to take his room. He had slept on the couch, and I felt bad for making him do that just for me.

"Luddy." I laughed at the stupid nickname I had come up with, but used it anyway, poking his shoulder.

"Hm… Feliciano?"

"Wake up, couch potato."

He smiled at the weak joke and stood, pecking me on the cheek. "Guten morgen."

"What does that mean?" I asked, confused. It's not like I knew German!

"It means 'good morning'." he answered, walking into the kitchen to start breakfast.

"I see. Well, do you know what this means?"

"What?" he asked, turning to look at me. "What does what mean?"

I smiled and clasped my hands together behind my back. "Ti amo."

**A/N: Sorry, a lot of you were probably expecting some heart-wrenching chapter, but I couldn't do it. I would've hated myself as a writer if Germany died, so... here you go. Review please?**


	15. Epilogue

"Luddy!" Italy called, running up to his boyfriend. He had sounded really serious over the phone, and Italy was desperate to know why. "What's up?"

"Oh, hello, Feli…" he sounded so distracted. Italy started to become worried after a long pause, looking up into the taller one's icey blue eyes, the ice immediately melting as they met the warm honey-brown color of Italy's eyes.

"What's-a wrong, Ludwig?" he asked, placing a hand on Germany's cheek. The blonde blushed heavily.

"N- nozhing, just… I don't know how to do zhis…"

"What is it?"

The German knelt down on one knee and took out a small felt box, making the Italian gasp. "Vell, Bruder just got married to Canada, and Japan is marrying Greece soon, so I thought…"

"Oh, Ludwig…"

"Vill- vill you marry me, Feliciano Vargas?"

Italy jumped on Germany and kissed him like he had never kissed him before, his arms wrapped tightly around the other's neck and his hands in his hair, messing up the uniform slick-back style. As they resurfaced for air, Germany grinned.

"I'll take zhat as a yes, zhen?"

"Si, si!" Italy responded, practically glowing as Germany slipped the gold band around his finger.

"Ich liebe dich, mein Italien."

Italy had been together with Germany long enough to know exactly what those words meant.

"Ti amo, la mia Germania!"

+Spain POV+

We sat near the back of the World Meeting, holding hands under the table, watching my favorite couples. America and England were sneaking a kiss as England bent to retrieve some papers that had fallen, Greece was once again sleeping on Japan's shoulder, my friend Prussia was smiling at his husband Canada, and Germany and Italy… well, they were engaged now. I smiled happily, like I usually did, and gripped Romano's hand even tighter. He responded by glaring at me, but squeezing back nonetheless, glad for his brother, even if said brother was getting married to the 'potato b******'.

I gazed at Italy, noticing that the scars up and down his arms were fading, just like the painful memories they had caused. Everything was as beautiful as ever again, and it was all because someone had been there for Italy. I was happy for him.

The Meeting suddenly ended without my noticing, and I looked around in surprise as other nations began filing out. Romano was standing, pulling me up with him, and starting toward the exit. A random thought pushed its way into my head. I stopped him and raised an eyebrow, holding him closer. "Can I get a kiss?"

"Wh- what? Why so sudden, tomato b******?" he blushed, looking away to hide the spreading scarlet.

"I just want a kiss. We've been together for years, and we've only kissed like, five times. Besides, your fratello and Germany kiss all the time!"

"F- fine." he conceded, standing on his tiptoes and pecking me quickly on the lips. "There you go," he mumbled. "Expect a better one when we get home."

I smiled. Now I was even happier about Germany and Italy's relationship.

+Japan POV+

I bowed politely as we headed into the reception area, where we got to see the couple after the wedding. I was nervously clutching Heracles's hand, overly excited to see my two friends sharing an even stronger alliance than before. It was like the only things they could see were each other and nothing else, like the world only consisted of this happy moment.

Heracles glanced down at me and smiled, his usual slow, steady smile that lit up my heart. "You okay, Kiku?"

"Y- yes, thank you." I managed to stammer out, overcome by the brightness of the wedding and his smile. Was this what our wedding would be like? I hoped so, I really, sincerely did.

"Kiku…"

"Yes, Heracres-san?"

"I love you."

"Aishiteru, Heracres-san." I smiled along with him, and because of his underlying confidence, was finally able to go up and congratulate my two greatest allies.

+Italy POV+

We were married. Who knew this would ever happen? I mean, cliche, right? But I couldn't help but feel ecstatic about it, as if all my dreams from childhood had come true. I leaned on Ludwig's shoulder as we drove to our house, as we had decided not to go on a honeymoon. Yes, we wanted to spend time together, but our countries needed us, especially after that whole fiasco a few years back. My nation Italy was still being rebuilt economically, and needed all the support it could get.

These thoughts ran through my head as we parked in front of the large white house we now called our own and Ludwig clambered out, opening the side door and offering me a hand. I took it gratefully and kissed it playfully as I climbed out, laughing as he blushed furiously.

"You should be used to it by now, Luddy!" I giggled, leading him up to the doorstep. He just sighed and reached over my head to open the door.

"Ja, I should be, huh? I'm just so head-over-heels zhat I can't stop blushing." he replied, only half-joking. I hugged him and we walked into the house, which Hungary, with the begrudging help of Austria, had set up the week before. It was a nice place, with the front room set up exactly like Ludwig's old house. I immediately liked it.

"Hey, Luddy, what now?"

"Vell, now I go upstairs and do paperwork, ja?" he raised an eyebrow at the question, folding his arms over his broad chest. I pouted and flopped down on the sofa, picking up a cushion and placing on top of my head, half-heartedly glaring at him. He just laughed and walked over, sitting next to me.  
"Fine, I'll spend some time wizh you."

I smiled and rested my head on his lap as he brushed his fingers through my hair. I closed my eyes, realizing for the first time that this is what a happy ending looked like. It turned out I didn't need my first Holy Rome to make everything okay.

x-x-x

He was alive. He was happy.

He had everything he had ever wanted.

Pain was a foreign concept now, and he was glad.

His name was Feliciano.

Otherwise known as Italy, the brunette was called 'bouncy', 'loud', and, because of everything that had happened to him, 'happy'.

**A/N: Hey guys! Oh gosh, it's finally over! I can go jump into the fabulous world of freedom now! Anyway, yeah, the epilogue sucks... But thank you everyone who has ever read and supported this story! So, in short, every single one of the 77 followers and KokePasu, who is a pain but still a great friend! She never followed the story on this site, but she still read it and supported me. Anyway, comment and congratulations for making it this far! Byebye~!**

**A/N le 2: Hello! There is now a second part to Broken Smiles! It's not a sequel, more of a second point of view, and set slightly before Broken Smiles starts. Please read it too! Thanks so much!**


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